


3, 2, 1, we came to fuck

by DangerDuchess, TheHiddenPassenger



Series: California 2019 [3]
Category: All Time Low, Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Aftercare, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Oral Sex, Pet Names, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 11:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4703780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerDuchess/pseuds/DangerDuchess, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHiddenPassenger/pseuds/TheHiddenPassenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toxic Valentine works hard--he's a porn star in the Zones and he's rather well-known for his ability to take a LOT of dick. He's also pretty fucking lonely, having nursed a horrid crush on his friend, Cherri Cola. Now, big guys aren't enough. He wants to try two, and his partners are more than willing to assist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. when you [wanna] be a movie star

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my Cali 2019 series... I'll warn you they're in no particular order and some of 'em are kinda pwp-ish, though I assure you they all have a purpose. Cali 2019 centers around Cherri Cola and the fictional crew I've given him, the Lost Boys. Hopefully these angsty, porny stories will serve to illustrate life in the zones and expand the scope beyond everyone's favorite Fab Four.

 They met up at an old motel the Fab Four had discovered on a particularly long-range raid. It usually had vacancies and the zone runner running the front desk didn't ask questions. She was an old and very proud drag queen, always wearing a different getup. The Welcome Wagon was parked out front by the time Toxic Valentine pulled up in his old pickup truck. A supply run was in order, but there was no reason he couldn't make a stop to have some fun. Tugging the keys from the ignition, the long-legged killjoy hopped out and sauntered right on in.

“Room 108,” grunted Fahrenheit Transistor, hooking her thumb over one taffeta-covered shoulder. Valentine stopped long enough to leer at her over the counter and give a wink that would've melted someone who'd not seen it a billion times before.

“You're a babe,” he purred. She whipped her manicured hand around and dismissed him. The skunk-haired killjoy grasped his left pectoral and made a face, agony etching through the lines, “so cold, my love—so damn cold.”

And with that, he disappeared down the hall to the usual destination. What awaited him beyond those three lovely digits was anything from piles of alcohol or recreational drugs to porn and negligee—possibly a combination of all that and more.

He lifted a bruised fist and rapped several times, waves of agony shooting up his arm with each hit and traveling right down to his dick. Valentine groaned and grinned, running his tongue over the teeth that built the Cheshire smile for which he'd become infamous. His crew wasn't nearly as well-known as the Fab Four, but the Lost Boys were still a force of nature. Though it was his personal work in the Zones as a porn star that made him so well-known.

It only took a moment for the door to be pulled open and for him to be tugged in right along with it. Fun Ghoul had his shirt front in two powerful, aggressive little fists. As soon as the door shut, Ghoul whirled him around and backed Toxic Valentine against the wall. Unable to reach his mouth with an eight inch height difference, the ink-haired killjoy went for the jugular—so to speak. He grabbed Valentine's crotch and palmed him through tight, leather pants.

“We thought you weren't gunna make it,” came the voice of a third party, further in the room.

“I always keep my appointments, oh impatient one,” responded Valentine, arching his hips into Ghoul's hand. He stayed that way a moment longer before going on the offensive, grabbing Fun Ghoul like a koala and hoisting him up so that he was straddling the tall, thin man's hips. It was only then he offered his mouth to the tattooed little he-devil. Ghoul was cackling and attacking Valentine's lips at the same time while Party Poison lay back on the bed, palming himself through faded jeans.

Carrying the tiny terror into the room, Valentine deposited himself onto the bed, Fun Ghoul still straddling his hips. He tugged at the tall man's hair as they kissed, sucking at his lower lip and rolling his hips. Clearly, someone had been anticipating this little rendezvous.

“Have you got the stuff, man? I can't fuckin' wait,” growled Ghoul, tugging at the hem of Valentine's shirt, tugging it upward. His calloused hands slid up the other man's body as he did this. He wasted no time pinching and rolling Toxic Valentine's nipples between thumbs and forefingers, relishing the way the man's eyes slid shut and he chewed on his lower lip.

“Right here, babe, calm down,” purred Party Poison, using a very secret, very private, very intimate nickname for his not-so-secret lover. Poison's hand rested on a duffel bag full of...goodies. Valentine knew exactly what was in there; he'd seen the length and breadth of it, and tried every single toy. Some of that stuff was harder to come by than other items. Being in the droid-run porn industry had his perks, but evidently being Party Poison came with _more_.

Condoms were in short supply and the environment to keep them intact was even harder, but the two members of the Fab Four had their ways. Lubricant was a similar story. Handcuffs and ball gags, chains, collars, clamps of all kinds and many other restraints were not so difficult to acquire. They also had an assortment of vibrators, dildos, clamps, etc. No one wanted to waste batteries on something so silly, however, therefore most of them were simply for the shape, not any of their multitude of features.

“Arms up, kiddo,” Ghoul jerked his head to indicate he was quite done with Valentine's shirt and wanted it off. The taller killjoy complied and lifted his arms as Ghoul lifted it up over his head. Poison had already shifted onto the bed and caught the shirt as it reached his wrists, balling it up and twisting so it became its own restraint. Valentine gasped a little and craned his neck to look at Party Poison. He should have been keeping track of Ghoul, who'd worked his way down to his knees between the pinned man's thighs. Quick hands made even quicker work of a studded belt and had Valentine's fly open before he could protest.

Not that he was about to argue.

He wanted out of those pants anyway. With just a little bit of roughhousing, arched hips and grunting, they were down around his ankles. Poison's hand, the one not holding his shirt as an impromptu pair of cuffs, slid around to grasp at his throat, tilting Valentine's chin upward, forcing him to look at the stained ceiling instead of Ghoul's mouth closing down around his cock.

Poison pressed his fistful of shirt against Valentine's upper back, keeping his wrists pinned there. He didn't release his hold on the taller man's throat, either, loving the way Valentine writhed and thrashed as Ghoul's dark-haired head bobbed up and down on his dick.

Poison let go of Valentine's throat long enough to pull his cock out of his pants and toy with himself a moment before tugging the tangled shirt restrained backward and forcing the Lost Boy onto his back. Valentine hit the bed with a thud, once more staring up at a stained ceiling, but not for long. Party Poison had wiggled out of his pants only moments before and was now climbing back on the bed, naked from the waist down, straddling Toxic Valentine's narrow chest. His erection pressed itself against thin lips which responded with what could have almost been a tender kiss before opening up and allowing the leader of the Fab Four to fuck his mouth senseless from above.

The sensation of Ghoul's mouth on his dick receded and he moaned, choking out a protest onto Poison's pistoning cock. There was an exchange of words above him between the two Fab Four members and suddenly, the dick in Valentine's mouth was also removed, leaving a trail of saliva between his lips and the tip. He moaned again, begging for it.

“C'mon—it was gettin' good.”

“It's about to get better, big fella,” Fun Ghoul assured him. Poison rolled off Valentine's chest and helped him sit up, taking the shirt and tossing it. In turn, Valentine shifted and tugged Poison's top off as well. The shortest of the three was digging around, rummaging in the duffel for something in particular. He clearly knew what he wanted, but could not seem to locate it with any speed. Poison chose to take up this time with sloppy kisses and groping, a set of gestures returned with gusto by Toxic Valentine.

“Fuckin'-a!” Ghoul exclaimed holding up a pair of condoms and a bottle of lube. “Brand new, fellas. This really is our night.”

As the sun sank below the horizon, Valentine found himself watching as Ghoul set the items aside and began a striptease for the both of them who were already too nude to tease. He swiveled his hips provocatively and tugged at the edge of his pants. Valentine whistled and made obscene gestures, parting his first two fingers and waving his tongue between them. Ghoul dropped a condom on the ground and bent—ass toward the bed—to grasp it, standing slowly and lifting his shirt as he did so, revealing inked flesh and scars.

“Take it all off, babe,” Poison purred, leaning on Valentine from behind, kneeling on the bed, arms around the tall man's shoulders. Both sets of eyes were fixated on the little guy.

“Patience, young grasshopper,” Ghoul held up a hand and licked his lips, opening his belt with practiced, agonizing slowness. Anyone with eyes could see that he was hard as a rock through those things. It must've been painful. Slowly, those fell away too and he was left in underwear and nothing else.

“I haven't got any carbons to throw your way, how 'bout you gimme a freebee, cutie?” Valentine cooed, leering harder at Ghoul than perhaps any man he'd ever seen—well, almost any. He tried to keep the leering to a minimum when Cherri could actually see him.

“This ain't a charity,” Fun Ghoul snapped in mock offense. He crossed his arms and cocked his hips. “What'll ya give me for the rest of this?” Gesturing to his crotch and then grabbed it. “This's some good merch I've got here... no dough, no dice, eh?”

Valentine patted himself down, as if his flesh had pockets. He gave the best, most theatrical distressed expression that was humanly possible and shrugged emphatically. Palms skyward, thick brows furrowed, lower lip sucked into his mouth, he was the picture of homoerotic porno intro sequence. Evidently, both Party Poison and Fun Ghoul were thinking this, as well and Poison voiced an idea.

“How 'bout his ass?” He suggested, tossing his head to remove fire engine red hair from his eyes.

“Yeah... how 'bout your ass?” Ghoul purred, sauntering closer, but just out of reach. He tugged at the edge of his underwear, yanking them an inch or two downward and cocking his hips to display the shape just right.

“Why not?” Valentine shrugged. “That seems pretty fair. But please go easy on me... I've never been with a man before!”

“Bullshit,” came the reply in unison. Once more, Toxic Valentine clutched at his tattooed, left pectoral and gave the room a look of indignant distress. Ghoul rolled his eyes and responded by tugging his underwear the rest of the way down and stepping out of them. He grasped the lube on the way to the bed and, while Party Poison positioned himself against the headboard, Ghoul crawled right up between Valentine's long, shapely thighs. Tossing one condom to Poison, he grasped the other and opened it quickly, leaning down over the tall killjoy long enough for a deep kiss.

“Here,” Valentine grunted, reaching out after Ghoul as he receded. The Lost Boy could feel Party Poison's sizable cock pressed into his mid-back and he couldn't help chuckling as he offered to put the condom on Fun Ghoul. The dark-haired killjoy shrugged, obliging his more-than-willing partner who grasped the little thing, examined it a moment and then pinched the tip. With thumb and forefinger, he fitted the cap-looking object to the bulbous tip of Fun Ghoul's penis and rolled it down. Ghoul shivered and groaned as Valentine's hand drew itself away and up his chest, to his neck and around behind, drawing him in for another kiss.

Poison was nibbling on Valentine's ear by then and his hands were wandering about. He'd discarded the condom next to him, but would be using it soon as he and Ghoul had some very exciting plans for the Lost Boy now sandwiched between them. Ghoul reached past both of them and grabbed the bottle of lube, squirting some on his palm and slicking his cock up. He didn't bother prepping Valentine for this one, lifting his hips until the tall man was holding himself up above a very hard, now-protected dick.

“You want this?” Ghoul purred, licking his lips and grasping his cock. Poison did his part and grabbed both Valentine's asscheeks, spreading them wide to expose his untouched anus—well, untouched today. Slowly, his head bobbed up and down.

“Give it to me, baby,” moaned the Lost Boy, rolling his hips obligingly. He grasped the sheets on either side of himself, part of the weight of his suspension being distributed to his hands and part to his feet. Poison's fingers dug into his ass as Ghoul positioned himself properly and Valentine lowered himself onto the cock. It was pure agony at first—as always, but Ghoul wasn't an idiot. He'd used a lot of lubricant and was slowly fitting himself inside Valentine. Eyes pressed shut, head tilted back helplessly, he was no longer in control of his own body.

They were.

Poison attacked his neck from behind, kissing and sucking and gnawing here and there, wherever he could reach as he settled all the way down into Ghoul's lap 'til the little guy was sheathed to the balls inside him. No one moved a moment, save Party Poison's now wandering hands and his busy, red mouth; it gave Toxic Valentine time to adjust to the pressure of being invaded by something larger than a couple fingers.

“You good?” Ghoul's tone was soft, a bit strained, but not at all demanding. This rendezvous was supposed to be fun. No one was forcing anyone to do anything he didn't want to do, nor to continue something with which he was uncomfortable. Slowly, Valentine nodded, opening his eyes and tilting his head to meet Fun Ghoul's golden brown gaze. He bit his lip and repeated the gesture a bit more vigorously.

“Need a verbal, big V,” muttered Poison into Valentine's neck. He tweaked a nipple and then both, holding the tall killjoy as if he had breasts for just a moment, rolling his palms in slow circles.

“Yes,” said Valentine, “I'm good.”

“There we go,” Ghoul relished, hooking tattooed arms under Valentine's knees and then pushing those up toward the man's chest so they were pinned by his shoulders. This gave him a better angle to begin moving inside Toxic Valentine.

Each slow movement brought a gasp to Valentine's lips, and a grunt from Ghoul's. Poison was an accessory at this point, though this didn't seem to bother him as he continued groping and fondling while Fun Ghoul's hips did that wicked roll only he could seem to manage. He began pumping a bit faster as the hole became more stretched and Valentine's gasps turned to groans and moans. His cock leaked precum on his chest and his balls strained with the load they just couldn't blow—not yet, anyway.

“Hey, babe, you think we're...good for another?” Poison asked his lover, who jerked his head to move black hair out of his eyes. Both sets of mischievous orbs met over Valentine's body and Ghoul shrugged.

“Maybe,” he consented, “let's see.”

And his cock vacated Valentine's ass, leaving the latter feeling empty and forlorn. He complained nonverbally by thrashing a little and verbally via a whiny moan.

“Hang on, man,” Ghoul chastised him, clicking his tongue. He crawled up next to Toxic Valentine and grabbed him, pulling his back off Party Poison. They lay side-by-side, erect and half-fucked, waiting for whatever Poison was up to behind Valentine. As it happened, the red-haired leader of the Fab Four was applying his own condom and lube before taking up a position behind Valentine.

“So we were thinkin' maybe...if you were up for it, both Ghoul and I would have a go at double-teaming ya,” Poison presented the idea with such straightforward grace, it made all deception impossible. He didn't want to seem like he was trying to convince Valentine to do something dangerous—which this could be if done incorrectly.

“I never considered the idea,” admitted Valentine, only half lying. He'd dreamed of it, sure. Who the fuck wouldn't? “I mean, the droids never brought it up... usually it's just _big_ ones, not two at a time.”

“Maybe you didn't, but we did,” said Ghoul with some pride, “and it was mostly _my_ idea.”

“You take that back, shit head,” snarled Poison, lifting himself on one elbow to see over Valentine's shoulder. Ghoul stuck his tongue out and made a face.

“Aaaaanyway,” continued Fun Ghoul, as if Poison's interruption was that of a petulant child over his mother's conversation with another member of the PTA, “so we thought we'd... y'know ask first.”

Slowly, ever-so-slowly, Toxic Valentine found himself nodding and shifting his hips so that Ghoul's dick was at his entrance again. Fun Ghoul already had a hold of his leg, an elbow hooked under the back of his knee for positioning, so it wouldn't take much to continue. All he knew was that he wanted to be stuffed full of cock and these guys were offering.

“Yeah, stick 'em in,” he ushered, rolling narrow hips.

“Awesome,” Poison exclaimed, fondling his own erection. He waited while Ghoul reentered and started thrusting into their mutual partner before making his move. The leader of the Fab Four indicated that Ghoul should slow down and pull out almost all the way as he positioned the head of his own, much bigger, cock at Valentine's anus. Both of them were extremely well-lubricated, but it was a lot of flesh to stuff in a small hole.

“This is going to hurt,” Party Poison warned, “but relax and it'll be easier.”

Of course, Valentine knew this, but the knowledge didn't make it any easier as both men slowly worked their hips forward and forced the heads of their cocks past the tight ring of muscle at his entrance. He could feel tears forming at the edges of his eyes, but he tilted his head defiantly upward and sighed deeply, willing his muscles to fucking chill out.

“Easy,” Ghoul muttered, “almost half way.”

Dear god it felt like miles of cock, length and width and the entry seemed to last for an eternity and a half. The stretching was agonizing, but with Poison's added length, Valentine would be seeing stars once they both started moving. They just had to reach that point without injuring anyone.

“You doing okay, Big V?” Poison queried, voice breathy and strained. With his cock rubbing against Ghoul's stuffed into a slick, tight, warm hole, it was difficult to think of anything but thrusting his hips forward and blowing his load. But that, above all else, he must not do. He hoped that by using Valentine's stage name, he'd relieve everyone's tension a little.

“I'm still good,” came the equally strained response. Valentine's own, relatively neglected cock, was pressed up against Ghoul's chest and leaking precum thereupon. This would be a hell of a sticky mess to clean.

“We're gunna start moving,” warned Ghoul, leaning his head forward to kiss at Valentine's tattoo and then suckle on his collar bone. Toxic Valentine moaned and bit his lip, willing himself to relax. The movement would hurt at first, too, but the pleasure it could bring was worth the agony.

“Go ahead,” he grunted, “please...”

And with that permission, both killjoys began to roll their hips, alternating the rhythm so Valentine's hole was never vacant but awash with the waves of sensation from double penetration. His grunts and strained gasps melted into moans, slowly pitching themselves up ward and becoming louder, as well. Soon, they had the headboard smacking the wall, yet another pleasing sound to add to the cacophony.

All of a sudden, however, the rhythm changed. Both Party Poison and Fun Ghoul were nearing their climaxes and neither wanted to stop or finish elsewhere. They'd been together long enough to share some kind of best friend telepathy. Immediately, they began thrusting at the same time, hitting Toxic Valentine deep and hard.

“Where's your sweet spot, baby doll?” Poison purred into Valentine's ear. With another couple of thrusts, the tall killjoy began to actively yelp and keen, grasping at whatever he could find which included the sheets, Party Poison's ass and Fun Ghoul's soft hair.

“Th-there...!” He shouted, as if they needed an answer. It was not an easy point to find but with this much stuffed in his asshole, someone was bound to hit it. And hit it they did, again and again. Valentine couldn't see straight and cried out as he was forced over the edge by the repeated beating of his prostate. His body went rigid a moment and his ass clamped down on Ghoul and Poison, who were even then simultaneously blowing their loads inside him as he squirted between his body and Ghoul's. A few more weak thrusts and both were finished, sighing contentedly and slumping back.

Ghoul worked himself free first, tugging the condom off and tying it before tossing the thing into the nearby trashcan. His cheeks were flushed and his knees wobbly. The little guy looked so pleased with himself and he showed it by laying back down and kissing Valentine full on the lips, whispering a grateful “thank you” to him.

With a sigh, Poison pulled out as well. He mimicked Ghoul's gesture to rid himself of the protection and then he, too, laid back down. Normally, he'd have offered to lick Valentine's hole clean, but the exertion of doubling up on him had worn the red-haired killjoy down. As Toxic Valentine shifted to his back, both of the other killjoys worked themselves up under his arms and grasped each others' hands over his torso, fingers entwining.

“That was....actually a first,” Valentine admitted with some wonder and a yawn. For once, no one argued. He felt spent, content, and for rent. That was to say, he would totally be down for that again. Or whatever else those two had planned. Sometimes, it was good to get away and just try something wild.

“Maybe more dirty talk next time, though,” Party Poison suggested, shifting and arching against Valentine's hip, “now that we've got it down.”

“I've got a fucking arsenal,” Ghoul chuckled.

“We know,” came the simultaneous response. Gently, all three fell asleep under the light of the stars from the motel's cracked window. Moonbeams rained down through the smoke-stained glass and they were transported to the warm land of slumber.  


	2. the kids [don't] care if you're all right, honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftercare is important... Valentine and the boys awaken to greet the rosy dawn, and Val' has some shit to process.

Poison was always the first to wake up. He'd open his eyes a moment, assess the other two were still sleeping and just close them again. Not sleep, necessarily, just a light doze, leaning against Valentine. The tall man was warm and still resting peacefully, as was Ghoul, who was still holding Poison's hand across Valentine's chest.

Warm and placid.  
Ghoul would wake up second, generally, shaking the bed as he scooted a little closer to the other two. Realizing he wouldn't be falling back a sleep, he'd whisper, "Poison... You awake?"  
"Yeah," would respond the redhead as he sat up just a bit. And the two would chat about this and that, keeping their voices down, until Valentine groaned and told them both to shut up. Today was no different.  
"Poison," Ghoul whispered, lifting his head to look across at the Red head who was presumably sleeping to those who didn't know what he really looked like when sleeping. "Poison, you up?"  
"Yeah," Party Poison whispered, eyes flicking open and shifting to prop himself up for a better look at Ghoul.  
"Morning," grinned the inky haired killjoy as he leaned across the sleeping Lost Boy to kiss his fearless leader and "secret" lover. It had been a little weird at first, bringing Valentine between them like this, especially when Poison and Ghoul hadn't been horribly explicit about their love affair. But Val knew, and being all about fairness, had asked for a night with both of them. It had been the first of many nights like the one previous. Three guys, just playing, experimenting, teasing. The unease melted quickly in the light of how easily Valentine in with Poison and Ghoul. No one could've made a better third partner.  
"So," Ghoul began, brown eyes practically glowing in the low light.  
"Last night... Was amazing."  
"Definitely," the redhead agreed, propping his head up on one hand and entwining his fingers with Ghoul's hand across Valentine's stomach.  
"We are so doing it again. That's a fact."  
"Oh, yeah," the black-haired killjoy adamantly agreed, smirking with his infamous shit-eating grin that just made Poison want to kiss him again. "So glad we thought of it."

Ghoul let out a deep sigh, pulling Poison's hand to his mouth and kissing the other killjoy's fingers.

"I mean," he said between each kiss he pressed into Poison's hand. "Val's ass might be a little worse for wear, but hot damn..."  
"What are you saying about my ass?" came the slightly growled reply from the man between them. He'd not moved all, save for his lips as his rusty vocal chords were used for the first time that morning. Clearly, waking up was not in his plan, and so instead he tried to pull the others down. His arms arms shifted to wrap around Ghoul, pulling him back under the sleepy Lost Boy's arms. Ghoul would make a perfect stuffed animal—he just fit so perfectly under Valentine's chin—if it weren't for the fact that the little devil wouldn't stop squirming.  
"Good morning," Poison said, gently plying one of Valentine's arms off Ghoul, both to release The shorter man from the sudden 'hug trap' he was in and to fit himself into the drowsy man's embrace. This was received with a grunt and a brief kiss from Valentine, who still really hadn't opened his eyes all the way.  
"We were just talking about last night," Ghoul said. No longer forcibly held down, he willingly sank into the bed to be held by the larger man, rather like a cat. "You did wonderfully, by the way."

A small smile curled at the sleepy man's lips as he pulled Ghoul closer to him.

"I can bottom like a motherfucker, I mean, it's kinda in the job description," he mumbled, voice slowly becoming less rusty the more he talked. "But you guys..." he trailed off, but let out a huff of air meant to signify how impressed he was with the whole ordeal. "I mean, fuck, man, I came so hard..."  
"Yeah, we noticed," Ghoul laughed, leaning up to get his own kiss from the man. It was a bit sloppy and tasted a little stale, but it was morning and they'd all just woken up. There were no judgments, especially after a night like yesterday.  
"Do you need to shower?" Poison asked, as they hadn't exactly stopped for a clean up after thoroughly fucking Valentine's brains out. Sleep had seem like a better option at the time, and to Valentine it still was.  
"Maybe later," he sighed, eyes still shut as he pulled the other two closer to him. Getting up was not in his immediate future, or at least not according to him and his arms around the smaller killjoys seemed to assure the same for them. "Less talking, more cuddling.”

Poison and Ghoul let out small strangled noises as they were pressed further into Valentine's sides. The Lost Boy was not so strong that the two of them couldn't get out of his grasp, but there was no real immediate urge to get out. No, instead they had an excuse to rest and just relax. They burrowed further against Valentine and under the covers, reaching across the tall man for the other man's hand. Not a lot of opportunities were given for cuddling, and so they took what they could get.  
"How's your ass?" Ghoul asked, rather bluntly, tucked neatly into the crook of Valentine's arm. He was comfortable, sure, but he was awake and wanted to talk, much to the chagrin of the drowsy man.  
Slowly deflating as he let out a sigh, Valentine mumbled, "'s fine." He was warm and comfortable and all this talking was not conducive to going back to sleep. "Still gorgeous last time I checked. A bit flat, but what can you do?”  
"Any bleeding?" inquired Poison, also too awake to go back to bed with the added bonus of being suddenly interested in the aftercare of the giant man, who let out an audible groan at his being further questioned.

"C'mon, Val'," Poison chastised, rolling into his belly to watch Valentine's face as he tried to coax him awake. Valentine still had not opened his eyes and was making no moves to do otherwise.

"Can't," he slurred, drowsiness heavy in his tone as he tried to press his face further into the pillow. "I'm asleep. 'N you should be to."  
"It's like 8:30," Ghoul supplied, leaning over to look at the clock on the night stand, to which Valentine groaned loudly and indignantly.  
"C'mon!" He cried, finally opening his eyes in exasperation to stare at the off-white ceiling. "It like you two are trying to kick me out of bed!!"  
"Nooo," Poison soothed, resting his head on the larger man's chest, absently running his thumb along the Skeleton man on Val's left breast. "Of course we're not... We just wanna make sure you're okay."  
"Last night was a first time, you said so yourself," Ghoul defended, lacing the fingers of his left hand with the hand that was draped around the short man's shoulders. "It was kind of intense, too"  
"Yeah it was," Val' said, closing his eyes again, but grinning widely like the Cheshire Cat he was. His ass throbbed a little bit as he remembered being stuffed full of cock. Man, it _had_ been incredibly intense and amazing last night, being so thoroughly and explosively fucked. Only _now,_ he had to deal with his abused anus. There probably was a bit of bleeding, having been stretched like that. Today was going to be interesting. Reclining was fine, but fuck, sitting in his shitty truck and bouncing the whole way home was gonna be a challenge.  
"Five more minutes?" He requested, and the smaller two men agreed by lying back down on the bed and just breathing against each other in the soft morning glow. Valentine slowly drifted back asleep, while the other killjoy's rested against him. Their hands laying on his chest rose and fell with every breath the tall man took. When he finally ran out of time, Poison and Ghoul pried him out of bed and pushed him towards the shower with little ceremony.  
"C'mon," Poison coaxed, pulling at his one arm while Ghoul pushed him from the other side. Valentine was not going with out a fight. Any time he moved he groaned in protest, like a giant cat being forced to move. A sleepy tiger being dragged to the bath. "You need to get clean!"  
"YOU need to get clean," Valentine deftly retorted as he was forced to his feet and out of bed. His ability for clever comebacks was not working. Morning just wasn't gonna wait for him. Rude.  
"We can go with you if want company," Ghoul said, leaning on the bed from the other side. Of course, this was mostly just Ghoul's way of asking for tossed salad in the shower. Or maybe he legitimately wanted to help Valentine clean up. The Lost Boy wasn't really sure. Ghoul was the boy who cried horny.  
"Ah, nah, I'm fine," he said, really not looking for a round two or frisky business in the shower. The last thing he needed was something more in or near his ass. "I won't be long."

And with that assurance, he walked to the bathroom, trying to keep his bowleggedness in check as he went. The moment he closed the door, he distinctly heard Poison and Ghoul high-fiving each other. Val' just rolled his eyes and turned on the water. The shower, thankfully, passed without incident.

Once all were cleaned and dressed again—as no one would have passed up an opportunity to bathe—Valentine approached the subject of breakfast.

"My treat" Valentine offered, still a bit hung over in the glow from last night's incredible act. "Just as a way to say thanks for the fabulous crime you two committed against my ass."  
"Guilty as charged," Poison purred. Perched on the edge of the bed with Ghoul, holding hands. They had no regrets whatsoever, as usual, and no qualms about the offer for food. So they agreed, suggesting a small restaurant not too far. "Ghoul can ride with you on the way there," the redhead offered with a shrug. "just to make sure you don't get lost.  
"Aw yeah! Party car!" The tiny troublemaker said, jumping onto Valentine's back as Poison stood to make the bed. The sudden weight of the killjoy surprised Valentine, but he quickly compensated, grabbing onto Ghoul's thighs tightly.  
"That's right dude," he said, twisting his neck to look at the tiny terror now clinging to him, “and we're gonna take the smoothest fucking ride imaginable."  
"Aww," Ghoul mock sympathized, resting his head on The Lost Boy's shoulder as his other reached down underneath himself to gently pat Val's ass cheek, “your poor ass."  
"My poor ass indeed, motherfucker, and whose fault is that?" Valentine teased as he leaned against the wall behind them, squishing the miniscule killjoy into the faded wall paper.  
"Mine!" Ghoul called out gleefully, even as he was slightly crushed between shoulder blades and dry wall. It could never be said that Fun Ghoul didn't own up to what he did, especially when it involved wrecking someone's ass.  
"Ours," Poison corrected, giving Ghoul the look a mother might have given her misbehaving child as he finished straightening the sheets. "C'mon, man, that shit was a group project."  
"Well, congrats on your A+ for my caboose, because y'all did a good  
fucking job."

To this, Ghoul proudly planted a kiss on Val's cheek. His arms draped around the tall man's neck, pulling  
"All right," Valentine said, leaning off Ghoul and the wall with a small grunt. "Enough of this mushy stuff, let's go get food!"  
The other zone runners cheered as the procession made their way out of the room and down the hall. They'd just made it past the front desk when Fahrenheit Transistor snapped her fingers at the tall man.

"Ay, Valentine!! You've got a message."  
The Lost Boy practically skidded to a stop, asking "Yeah?" But the drag queen slid a piece of paper across the wood desk and went back to her magazine without another word.  
"Hey, pop off spider monkey," Val' said, squatting a bit so Ghoul could get down to the floor without jumping and breaking his face. Once down, the Lost Boy strolled over to the note and picked it up off the desk. The message had been scrawled a little haphazardly on a torn off corner of what looked like the back of a page ripped out of an old book.

All it said was:  
"Toxic Valentine Rm. 108  
From Cherri Cola:  
Dude, come home soon. Picked up a sweet new cassette and got my 'zine  
published. Can't wait to show you. See you when you get home."  
A small twinge of guilt settled oddly in Valentine's stomach, making  
his throat tight as he stood there, reading and rereading the note  
over and over. Cherri. For a night he'd forgotten...  
"Everything okay?" Poison asked, putting a hand on Valentine's arm, making the man jump a tad. He quickly stuffed the note into his pocket for later while giving the red haired man his knowing grin.  
"Yeah," he said, reassuring Poison as he met those hazel eyes. "Just Cherri being a mom. C'mon," he said, putting an arm around Poison's shoulders. He tried to push the note and all thoughts of it out of his mind and continuing their trek outside, instead. "We've got some food  
to eat."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DangerDuchess is 100% responsible for this bit. The formatting is a little crazy because of cross-program copypasta garbage. I don't think it'll be unreadable. Anyway, so here's another (MUCH SHORTER) collab fic with DD.

**Author's Note:**

> Gimme a spell for chapter 2. That's the bit with the aftercare and the one-sided garbage... DangerDuchess will be your maestra on that particular cute, short, sappy journey.


End file.
